


The Problems Kisses Cause

by Clocksmith



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Internalized Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-08 01:30:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4285500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clocksmith/pseuds/Clocksmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There seems to be no end to all the problems that kisses can cause, no matter how simple a thing they are. But some kisses are pretty cool; they can solve problems, too. Even if you weren't aware those problems were there in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Problems Kisses Cause

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice…” 

My fingers go stiff against the strings as the final note abruptly stops against my skin. Without the nylon strings humming out into Kate’s room the resulting silence feels way louder than anything I could ever hope to play; it’s certainly more noticeable. 

“W-what?” I just about manage. I try to get my fingers moving again but it doesn't seem like they want to listen. Traitors. 

“I’ve seen you looking at me,” Kate reiterates. “I’ve seen you looking at me when we’re in our pyjamas or getting ready for gym.” 

My hands find themselves gripping tight against the smooth wood of my guitar. I don’t dare breathe another word on the off chance the wrong sounds manage to escape past my lips. I just keep my eyes locked onto the side of Kate’s head as she stares down forlornly at her desk. 

“You think I don’t notice. But I do.” She mumbles out the last words as her voice dips steadily into a new silence. 

“You’re not nearly as subtle as you think you are,” she eventually adds. “I didn’t think much of it the first few times. But once I realised it was happening, I couldn’t _unsee_ it.” 

I find myself just waiting the next instalment of silence out. I honestly can’t think of what else to do. I never really considered that Kate might notice me sneaking peeks at her. I didn’t think _anyone_ had noticed, to be honest. I thought I was being a real Sly Cooper about it. 

That last thought doesn’t do anything to help me. If anything, it makes this whole ordeal feel worse. 

But I just…I couldn’t help myself, I guess. I think I always adored how kind she was around others and how careful she was to keep close those she cared about. Everyone has their faults but that didn’t seem to matter with Kate; I never find the time to mind hers and she certainly doesn’t berate me for any of mine. 

But after a while I started to notice how pretty she was on the outside, too. 

Kate’s so reserved and conservative in what she does. She doesn’t flaunt her body and she’s perfectly fine living her life that way. She doesn’t chase after boys or attempt to make her face any prettier than it already is. And she doesn’t buy flashy clothing or weird cosmetics to hide any sort of insecurity she might have either.

Kate’s perfectly content with what she’s been given by something she considers greater and I…I adore that. That she doesn’t try to show what she has only makes me more curious to find out what lies beneath the surface.

Not in any sort of perverted way or anything; Kate is gorgeous without any added effort on her part. I just want to see more of her, in a way; to see what kind of marvel God made her into, both on the inside and the outside.

And…and maybe it would be _sort_ of nice to kiss the skin of Kate’s shoulder once in a while, only after her blouse has been gently removed. To be able to shift my hands slowly over the skin of her back, to feel each subtle bump of her spine in a way that no one else ever will –

Okay, perhaps it’s a little perverse. I could never say that to Kate’s face, though. Certainly not right now. 

Or ever, if I have much say in it. 

“I…”

But I still can’t quite find the right words to say all that. Are there any I can string together without outing myself as some sort of creepy pervert? _Am_ I a creepy pervert? Maybe it will be fine if I just leave out the thing about her shoulder. “I don’t…know what to say.”

I derive from her lack of a reply that Kate is thinking something along the same lines. Much like how I am on the very edge of her bed, she’s just sat still at the tip of her chair. She’s staring down into her hands as they lay on her desk curled into tight fists. They hold her gaze as if they somehow hold the almighty answer to the current situation. 

I can even hear the deep sound of her breathing through the sheer mass of quiet. The muffled world outside Kate’s bedroom window does nothing to hide the stale, evening air as it rushes through her nostrils and out heavily through her throat. 

I don’t think I can stand this. I _can’t_ stand seeing her like this again. Whatever I’m going to say – however I explain – I want it said and done. Kate’s been through plenty already and I don’t want to be the person that drags her through something more. 

Though, perhaps, that’s already become moot at this point.  

As if it’s going to gather me the precious few seconds I need to consider what I should even be saying, I rest my guitar on the bed next to me. 

 _Here we go._  

“I know that you…you _believe_ in what you do, Kate,” I slowly begin. The words feel horribly hot against my throat. They itch and burn like bile. “I don’t know how you feel about how I feel, but I never wanted to hurt you. Nothing like that, really.” 

If Kate has a response to give, she doesn’t voice it. She just continues to breathe steadily and avoid my gaze. It would probably help if I wasn’t so damn vague about all of this. 

“But I _do_ feel what I feel,” I continue. _This is it_. I don’t dare let go of what little momentum I’ve managed to find. I don’t really know where I’ll end up if I come to a sudden stop. “And I…I _feel_ that way about you. I like you Kate.” 

“I really, _really_ like you.” I’m not entirely sure I needed to reiterate, but you never know with some people. Then again, Kate did notice me staring at her; I doubt she really needs the extra context. Maybe she doesn’t _want_ the extra context. 

Once again, the only sounds to hear are Kate’s heavy breaths and the barely-there world outside her bedroom. Her busy chest gradually grows calmer as she gains some sort of control. Her body grows less tight, though I can’t help but watch her hands in some painful fascination as they stay there, wound into tight little fists. 

Eventually the heavy breaths cease altogether. Her chest goes steadier still. 

“I don’t hate you,” she finally says. 

Several seconds tick by before my brain begins to register the words and places them in the correct order.

That’s…

That’s better than nothing. Isn’t it? It shows I still mean _something_ to her, even if hearing Kate mention anything to do with hate attached to my name makes my stomach tighten and churn. I wasn’t even aware that those two things could occur at the same time. It feels like something wants to escape from inside me and it doesn’t care if I get hurt in the process.  

Maybe this is how Kane felt before he died? 

I try to ignore the heat pricking just behind my eyes. Crying won’t do me any good right now, anyway. It wouldn’t help either of us. 

“I-I’m not like my mother,” she shakily continues. She takes a single, long breath in before continuing. “I don’t hate people for things they can’t help. I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want to be like _her_ and I know that’s what you’re thinking. I d-don’t hate you.” 

It’s my turn to breathe through the leftover silence. I’m getting real tired of all this quiet; I wouldn’t complain about a distraction right about now, anything that would give me more time to handle this. It’s weird to think how things change.

Last year I had all the time in the world.

There’s a burning in my chest that’s spurred on by whatever it is that’s harrowing my stomach. That’s an unholy alliance if there ever was one. I feel even sorrier for Kane, now. 

But, in the end, Kate’s almost right. Or as close as someone can be without being a mind reader. Or a sneaky a time traveller. 

“People should be able to love who they want.” There’s something broken at the back of her voice, barely there at all. It’s followed by another long breath. “We should be… _everyone_ should be allowed...a-allowed-” 

She shifts her head to look at me – _really_ look at me for the first time since I entered her room. It’s so strange to realise just how used to her smile I am. When it’s gone, something just doesn’t feel right about her. 

It’s like something important is missing. I haven’t felt this way since…well, since Kate hit rock bottom. And I don’t think either of us wants her to go back there. 

I hold my breath as she keeps up an unsteady gaze with me. That sting that jabbed from behind my eyes seems intent on doing worse to Kate; I can just about see the beginnings of tears forming at the edge of her eyes.

I stiffen completely when she slowly rises up to her feet. She takes uneasy steps towards me, each one precise despite the hesitation. What little floor there is between us becomes a minefield, somehow growing all the more dangerous with every single step she takes towards me. 

Her hands are still curled into tight, little fists. The skin at her knuckles is so white.  

“K-kate?” I’m not even sure what I’m meant to say. What’s going on?  

What’s she going to do? 

She stops just sort of my feet before swallowing hard. 

“C-can…can you close your eyes?” 

“Wha-” 

“Please, Max. Please.” There’s that break again, almost a whimper at the edge of her voice. She forces a shaky intake of air through her nose. “Just close your eyes.” 

I don’t hesitate. I can’t with Kate. She’s been nothing but good to me since the moment we met. She’s careful with those she trusts - sometimes even too careful, if I’m being honest. I’ve never once felt unsafe around her, or worried or anxious. 

And she’s never been too forward or preachy either. She’s never tried to force her beliefs onto me. She’s never really tried to force _anyone_ onto her way if thinking and I don’t see that changing now; Kate isn’t that kind of person. 

She can _ask_ you to change, but she won’t _force_ you. That’s another thing to add to the list of things I like about her, I guess.  

I close my eyes and hold my teeth tight together. I’m not sure what’s going to happen. I’m not even sure why I’m clenching my teeth. Maybe it’s still that rising knot in my stomach forcing the rest of me to submit. 

I certainly wish things weren’t this awkward. This isn’t how I thought this sort of situation would go. I should–  

There’s something at my lips and I jump from the sudden contact. The pressure immediately retreats and I feel hot, quick breaths against the flesh of my mouth.  

I keep my eyes shut, but I ease the pressure at my jaw. I breathe slowly through my nose until the feeling of Kate works its way back. 

Kate’s lips shiver against mine, barely there as they are. I would call the experience less of a kiss and more flesh simply touching together. There’s no sultry movement or passion riding just under the surface. I feel Kate’s lips against mine and…and that’s all there is to it. 

One more breath and I move my lips by the tiniest fraction. I kiss her top lip, slowly and carefully. My head grows fuzzy at the sensation despite how stilted it all is. Everything is stiff and anxious; Kate’s barely moving at all.

But the contact alone is wonderful. It’s Kate’s lips I’m fumbling against and that just makes me want to crack a smile.

As I finish my brief movements against her, Kate begins her own. She repeats my action, just as slowly but barely on the same level. I can’t help but feel her shake against my skin, trembling into me. 

It isn’t the good kind of trembling either. I…I can’t really say I know what the good trembling is really like, but I know it shouldn’t be like this. She shouldn't be where she is, scared of some creature ready to pounce out from within her closet. The heated air easing between Kate’s lips barely registers as she struggles through the tiny motions of kissing my upper lip. 

 It’s more of a peck. Restrained and undeniably closed. The fuzzy feeling at the back of my head dims and the only thing I’m now aware of is that Kate isn’t…well, she just isn’t. Whatever I’m starting to like isn’t happening for her.

“Kate,” I murmur, her lips still against mine. I talk into her mouth but that doesn’t entice her to move away as well as I had hoped. “Kate?” The second time offers nothing new in that regard. 

 She moves to my bottom lip, repeating the same actions and growing more natural as the experience continues. I hear her swallow before she quickly touches her tongue to the drying surface of her lips, only to briefly brush by mine in turn. This simple contact forces her back as if it had physically hurt. As if that monster finally arrived. 

When I open my eyes, I almost convince myself that it has. 

Kate’s now sat on the floor with her hands tight over her mouth. Her eyes just stare wide down to the carpet with those tears from before threatening to finally break free.  

She looks fit to burst with a pressure I can’t even begin to describe. Her gasps struggle past her hands as her chest heaves up and down in sheer want of oxygen. There are horrid noises coming from her nose as she sniffles and the air outright refuses to make it all the way through. 

I get up and inch my way towards the shivering girl just out of my reach. She doesn’t move as I set myself down gently next to her. I briefly consider resting a hand on her shoulder or something like that, but I decide against it in the end.  

For now, at least. 

“Kate,” I say again. I try for my warmest smile and softly pull her hands down from her mouth. “It’s okay, Kate. It’s just you and me in here. Take a deep breath in.” 

She does, albeit shakily. Her hands shiver in mine throughout the entire ordeal. 

“And out,” I finish. 

She nods and breathes out with just as little composure. She repeats the process for a little under a minute before her chest settles back into something resembling a steady rhythm. 

At some point her hands had moved to the golden rosary hung around her neck. I’m not sure when they did, or when I actually let them go, but I’m glad it seems to have calmed her down. Anything that helps her relax.

It’s only after a few minutes more that I speak again. 

“You didn’t have to do that, Kate.” I briefly flick my tongue against my own lips, unsure if I’m trying to savour what I had felt or erase it entirely.  

“I know,” is all I get out of her. 

I try to choose my next words carefully. As invested in this ordeal as I am, our friendship definitely comes first in all of this. Kate doesn’t need this, not when she’s been doing so well lately. She almost seemed like her old self for a while; she had a few bouts of carefree confidence in herself, she was even smiling again. 

I hope I haven’t ruined that. 

“What are you thinking?” I tentatively ask. 

“I-” She begins almost instantly before her words falter and crumble into nothing. Another haggard breath. “I-I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have done that.” 

The words hit me sharp in the chest, but I push the pain aside. “Why?” 

This time it takes her a little longer. I patiently watch as she clutches the cross around her neck and looks everywhere around her room except at me. 

“M-my family. My _mother_!” she whispers. Tears finally begin to slide their way down her cheeks. “They’ll disown me, Max. They won’t want anything to do with me. They all – m-my parents won’t want to have a _gay_ daughter. My church…the church won’t-” 

I can guess what she was going to say, even if she didn’t get a chance to say it. Her composure plummets and she lets herself cry right there on the floor. Against any judgement I may or may not have, I reach over her shoulder and pull her close to me. 

Several minutes pass as she cries in my arms. It was only after half of those that I felt myself begin to cry too. As hard as I held the tears back, I couldn’t stop myself from just submitting to it all. It hurt. It all hurt and to top it all off, Kate was fucking hurting too. 

“There’s nothing wrong-“ 

I regret my words before I’m even finished with them. Of course there’s nothing wrong with what happened, Kate would probably say as much to other people if they were in this situation. But in those situations it didn’t refer to _her_ : Kate, a girl with Christian parents and a _very_ Christian upbringing. The girl who loves her faith and her church and all that it offers her. 

I can't say her reaction is surprising. 

“Everything’s wrong!” she screams to the floor. Yet she doesn’t pull out of my grasp. “My church, my whole family and the clubs. They’re not going to tolerate this. T-they’re not going to tolerate me! Not if they-” 

“Will God tolerate you?” 

I can hear her swallow, even if I can’t quite see it. One of her hands falls from the rosary to clutch at the hem of her blouse. I just about catch the red imprints the metal has made into her palm. 

“God…” she begins, slowly. I feel her breathing slow and her body tighten against me. “He is…merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness.” 

“What else?” I know she has more to say in there somewhere. I can still bring her back down with a little help from the big guy upstairs. 

“He will be patient toward you,” she says, heaving another load of air through her nose, “not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance.” 

Maybe not that verse. C’mon big guy, a little help here?

“You have nothing to repent about, Kate,” I reply. I hug tighter and she doesn’t argue against me this time.

I know there are _some_ verses that condone homosexuality but I also know that there are a lot of bigoted Christians that pick and choose what they want from the Bible to suit their own views. 

Kate does something along the same lines, but only when she feels God would agree with her. She knows that some of the verses have no place in this day and age, even if she is exceedingly careful about which verses she chooses to accept and which she chooses to ignore. 

She told me once that the 'not eating shellfish' thing seemed a bit silly to her. I hope this takes a similar path. 

“I don’t hate you,” she suddenly mumbles again. I watch as she rubs away at her puffy eyes and wipes her nose. The snot she wipes away really should have done something to ease the tension but she just ignores it. “I-I don’t want everyone to hate me.” 

“You just kissed me, you idiot,” I whisper, just about managing a half smile. “It doesn’t have to…it doesn’t have to mean anything, right?” 

Kate doesn’t answer. 

“It was just a kiss. That doesn’t make you gay or anything like that. It doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to, Kate.” 

The hand that grips tight to her blouse – the one that she kinda used to wipe her nose - shakily reaches down to my hand. I don’t dare move as she takes light hold of my fingers in her own. Her other hand stays firmly at her cross. 

“D-did…did it-” 

She briefly lets go of my fingers before reaching further into my hand. The end of her digits stroke hesitantly at my palm. 

Another deep, shaky breath. 

“Did it mean anything to you?” she asks, quietly. 

“Yes!” I answer a little too quickly. “I-I mean, of course it meant something. It was _you_ that kissed me.” 

“How long have you wanted to kiss me?” 

I hold myself back a little this time. I take my free arm from her shoulder and let it rest at my side. “A while, I think. Or…I don’t know. I just looked at you one day and thought ‘yeah, it’d be _really_ cool to kiss her’ and…yeah." 

“I see…” 

There’s nothing in particular to her voice. If anything, I’d say she sounded tired. She doesn’t sound angry or scared or sad or anything I can easily decipher. Her words are about as conflicted as I feel, sitting here on Kate’s bedroom floor. 

Was I expecting something different than this? I wasn’t expecting that kiss either, mind you. That was a nice surprise. At least, it might be if this all works out. 

“Did the kiss mean anything to you?” Part of me thinks this question has already been answered. “Anything good, I mean." 

Like me, she replies all too quickly. “Y-yes. It…it was my first real kiss. The first one I remember, that I _want_ to remember.” She pauses for a moment. “There was the thing last year but you…that was all what it was and...” 

“Oh…” 

I’m not sure what else to say to that. After the whole Vortex Club incident I didn’t really wonder if Kate had ever kissed anyone before it. Part of me feels like gloating that I got Kate’s first sober kiss, but another part of me – a less douchey part of me – says now isn’t the time. The fact still excites me, though. 

Does that really make me her first real kiss? 

“You’ve probably kissed a lot of people by now.” Kate wipes her eyes once more, her composure finally returning in some more concrete form. She tries to laugh but it comes out strained and cracked. “Not that doing that’s a bad thing, or anything.” 

“Not…not really. I kissed Chloe. Once.” 

Kate looks up to me. 

“It was a while ago. She dared me because she didn’t think I’d go through with it. You should have seen her face, Kate; she was like a ketchup bottle.” I try my own laugh and it comes more naturally. “It was just a peck, though. We – I mean, it wasn’t really a _kiss_ kiss.” 

She manages a brief, tiny smile. A genuine smile. 

“You seemed to know what you were doing.” 

“I just tried to do what they do in films and anime and…and stuff.” I don’t sound too convincing. It even sounds silly to me, and I’m the one saying it. “I went with the flow.” 

There. That sounds better. I _really_ wish I’d started out with that. 

“I just wanted to see what it was like,” Kate says. Her fingers still lay against my palm as she smiles a weak smile towards the faded carpet. The smile is gone almost before it even registers with me. “I wanted to be in control of it. It was…I thought it was nice when you kissed me back. Scary, but nice." 

“Isn’t that all that matters? That you liked it?” 

“I don’t know.” 

Again, not quite the answer I wanted to hear. It was close to what I expected. Kate’s quick to continue. 

“But I-I think it should be. It was nice. Kissing you; I liked it.” 

Insert obligatory Katie Perry reference here. 

“I don’t want people to hate me, Max.” Her fingers briefly scratch at my palm before she notices the act and pulls away into herself. She brings her legs close to her chest and brings her arms in close. “I don’t want my family to hate me again. I don’t want everything to just fall apart all over again because of more kisses. Nothing’s been fixed or anything but…I just don’t want to go back there. I don’t want to; I’ve barely left.” 

I move back into prime hugging position until I have arm back around her shoulder. She hesitantly leans her head into the crook of my neck and I can’t help but feel she’s still stronger than she was that day on the roof.

She’s talking about this; we’re talking and she’s keeping her cool. As much as she can right now, anyway. 

“These kisses are different,” I say. I gingerly kiss the hair just above her fringe. I don’t feel her shake or shiver away from my touch. “You’re not being manipulated by some sick fucker with a video camera. You kissed someone in your own room on your own terms. And I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to.” 

"I just don't want everything to go wrong again. I don't want any of it." 

"But you did want to kiss me," I reply, perhaps a little more smug than I should have been. 

I don't get a direct answer. All I feel is Kate slowly nod her head against me.  

My next question isn't one I want to ask, but I feel like I need to. Kate needs a way out of this, even if I don't want to be the one that opens the door for her. 

“Do you want us to pretend this didn’t happen?” 

“No,” she barely replies. She seems ready to say something more but stops herself. “No. No, I don’t want to pretend this didn’t happen.” 

“Neither do I.” 

I watch her smile again. One of her hands reaches back down to mine as she slowly leans over. She hesitates for the smallest second before planting a short, soft kiss on my cheek. And then one more for luck, it seems. 

“I don’t hate you Max,” she whispers, as if someone might hear if she speaks any louder. As her hand grabs hold of mine her voice rises regardless, if only by a skosh. “I…I t-think I like you. I think I like you a lot.”

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a good while since I tried my hand at a first person piece - and a romance at that - so I thought I'd have a go at one of my newest ships in the process. As great as some of the other ships are in Life is Strange, Marshfield is my favourite so far.
> 
> I've also decided to publish more of the things I write for fun and practise, hence this account. Hopefully I get at least a few smile from people out of the things I write! I might even learn a lesson or two at the same time.


End file.
